


Derek and Their Pack

by JoMouse



Series: A Very Sterek Winter 2021 [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Curse Breaking, Don't copy to another site, Emissary Stiles Stilinski, Feral Derek Hale, Happy Ending, Loss of Pack, M/M, Near Death, Pack, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Witch Curses, Witches, Wolf Moon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:28:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29052897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoMouse/pseuds/JoMouse
Summary: Ten months ago, a witch turned Derek feral and he disappeared. The Pack has been falling apart since and it's killing their emissary.
Relationships: Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: A Very Sterek Winter 2021 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2124750
Comments: 18
Kudos: 211
Collections: A Very Sterek Winter 2021





	Derek and Their Pack

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings and Salutations!
> 
> First, thank you for all of the well wishes yesterday. My fever broke at some point during the night and I've been improving all day. My work made me go for a Covid test anyway (and it came back negative) so I'll be returning to work on Saturday.
> 
> This story was forming inside all day even while waiting for the testing, so I hope I was able to put it into words properly. Unbeta'd again because it's finished last minute, but I hope you all enjoy it!
> 
> xx-Joey
> 
> Don't know 'em. Don't own 'em. Don't show 'em.

It had been ten months since a witch had rolled through Beacon Hills, wreaking havoc on everything and everyone in her path. So many people had suffered from unexplainable woes soon forgotten when she’d finally been forced to move on by a majority of the remains of the Hale Pack. Stiles rubbed his hands over his face as he thought about those words, about the Alpha-less pack. About the Alpha Mate without an Alpha. About himself without Derek.

Stiles woke every night from nightmares of watching the humanity slip from Derek’s eyes as the witch turned him completely feral. Despite Stiles’ best efforts, Derek had run off into the woods not to return. It hadn’t stopped the Pack from looking for him. Long nights of searching ending in feelings of loss and despair when he managed to elude them all again. 

Scott had given up around October, saying the scents must be old, and Derek had left the area. Stiles knew he was wrong, knew it every morning that he woke up to find another dead animal beneath his window. He couldn’t explain why he didn’t share the information with the Pack, the obvious signs that their Alpha hadn’t completely forgotten them, but he suspected it was fear that perhaps it wasn’t Derek leaving the courting gifts. 

When the sun rose on the first of the year, he could feel the rest of the Pack lose hope. Jackson returned to his Pack in London. Erica and Boyd started discussing contacting other Packs. They were all feeling the loss of their Alpha, and while they were making plans to move on, they were killing Stiles.

He’d awoken on the second day of January, lethargy strong in his limbs. He tried to use his magic to find the source, but it had fizzled just as it left the tips of his fingers. He’d read about this happening to Packless Emissaries, and he could only imagine it would be worse for a Packless Alpha Mate. Every morning, it became more difficult to drag himself out of bed to face the day. He was fortunate he lived at the Pack House now, and no one was around to notice. Then again, if someone had been around, it might not be happening.

Now, it was nearly the end of the month, and Stiles knew that if he didn’t get Derek back that night, there would be no getting out of bed for him ever again. Knowing that night would either be his last or a new beginning gave him just enough energy to rise and prepare for the Full Moon. It wasn’t just any moon, but the first full moon of the New Year, colloquially called the Wolf Moon. There were many tales of the call of a wolf being more substantial on the Wolf Moon, and Stiles hoped that was indeed the truth.

Dressing warmly, the bitter wind cutting through his weakened state, he headed out into the woods many hours before nightfall. He wanted to set up a decent camp and didn’t know how long it would take him to reach his destination or get the place set up correctly. He carried a bag and headed north from the house, stepping over the blood left from the gift of a deer left on his porch that morning.

It had been nine months since he’d returned to the last spot he’d seen Derek. The other wolves claimed his scent was utterly washed away by that time, that Derek had never returned, and they were wasting their time returning there over and over again. It felt right to head there that night. 

He stopped to rest several times on the walk, leaning against a tree and trying to conserve his energy. He had little magic left and even less control over it, so he didn’t want to waste any in case he had to attempt to call on it at all that night. When he reached the clearing, it was empty, and the sun was beginning to go down. 

Moving as quickly as he could, he built a small fire and surrounded it with mountain ash. He hated that there was a chance he would need protection against Derek and a part of him knew that if his Mate were still feral, it wouldn’t matter if he killed him. Stiles would be dead by morning anyway.

The sun was down and the moon high in the sky by the time Stiles was done. He leaned back against a boulder near the fire and within the ring. Staring up at the sky, he blinked back tears as the woods around him remained silent. Full moons used to mean a chorus of howls, yips, and playful barking. Waves of Pack and home would roll over everyone as they ran together, bonding and growing as a Pack. It had taken so long to get to where they had been and one night and one witch to destroy it all.

Wiping away tears, Stiles decided to give one last try to reach out to his Mate. Tilting his head back and calling on the last bit of magic he felt at the base of his chest, he let out a long mournful howl. It wasn’t anything close to as powerful as a wolf’s, but it was still clearer than any Stiles had ever let out before; it was a call for a lost mate, and he only hoped that it worked.

The silence dragged on, and Stiles felt himself growing weaker as the tears continued to fall. He was ready to give up, to curl up in the sleeping bag he’d brought and wait for death to take him when he heard a distant howl in return. Pushing himself to sit up straighter, he focused on the sound. It wasn’t Derek, the sound wasn’t the one he knew so well, but it was Pack. Even if he didn’t know Scott’s slightly weak howl, he could feel it as a little bit of Pack magic tingled in his fingers.

Using that extra dash of magic, he howled again. This time it was a tiny bit more hopeful, and Scott quickly returned it, sounding closer. A moment later, two more howls filled the air. Smiling, Stiles identified Boyd’s unmistakable, musical cry in counterpoint to Erica’s near cackling sound. The magic grew more substantial, and Stiles howled again, calling to his Pack. Soon, he heard Isaac’s howl, and the woods around him started to come alive. The wind blew through the branches, and he could hear animals moving among the leaves on the ground.

Lydia’s banshee scream joined in a few minutes later, along with Kira’s coyote yip. Smiling through his tears at the still missing call of his Mate, Stiles howled out long and low, the sound strong as the others joined in and grew closer. He knew the pack was finding him, and he opened the circle of ash, his magic pushing it back into the glass jar where he stored it. Even if Derek showed up in a feral state, the Pack would protect him. 

Lydia was the first to come through the trees, unsurprising since she’d probably driven most of the way. He imagined her car parked next to his Jeep. What surprised him was that she held her cell phone in front of him, and when she and Stiles let out calls in unison, Jackson’s voice rang through in a tinny manner. Soon, the Pack surrounded Stiles, and he was able to rise to his feet without a struggle for the first time in months.

Holding out his arms, the Pack surrounded him until they were a mass of limbs and sobbing laughter. “Call him, Stiles,” Lydia answered. “You’re the only one who can.”

Nodding, Stiles tilted his head back, calling on all of the magic that was inside of himself and flowing through the Pack around him. The howl he let loose was loud enough to shake the trees, wildlife fleeing from the clearing, and the ground trembled beneath their feet. The howl lasted for a full minute before he couldn’t keep it going before it hurt his heart to bare it in that way to not only the Pack but the entire world.

As it cut off, the world fell still and silent. The Pack held their breath, and as the moments passed, Stiles felt his heart breaking into smaller and smaller pieces. He let his arms drop and stooped down to pick up his bag, ready to call it a night. At least with the Pack, he would survive for a little while longer, but it was clear that Derek was gone forever.

His hand wrapped around the strap, and he froze when he heard it. Rustling in the leaves beyond the edges of the clearing, quiet and backed by snuffling. Holding up a hand, keeping the Pack in place as they began to get restless, a low growl starting in Scott’s chest. Stepping out of the circle of his Pack, Stiles whispered, “Derek?” his voice hopeful as he approached the area where the noise originated.

He was three steps away from the Pack when a large black wolf stepped out of the trees, eyes glowing red and mouth red with the blood of the rabbit it carried in its mouth. “Derek?” Stiles asked again, and the wolf ducked its head as it approached and dropped the offering at Stiles’ feet before looking up at him with hope in his red eyes.

Letting out a sob, Stiles dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around the wolf’s neck. He didn’t care if Derek tore him apart. Stiles only cared that Derek was there, closer than he’d been in months. It wasn’t long after he started sobbing that Stiles felt the change. Fur gave way to skin, and arms wrapped themselves around Stiles. Derek buried his face in Stiles’ neck, huffing lungfuls of air and sobbing even louder than Stiles.

“Mate. Stiles. Found you,” Derek cried. “Found me.”

The rest of the Pack fell into a group around them. Every member reached out to touch Derek and Stiles. Jackson kept asking what was happening until Lydia hushed him. “You came back to me. To us.” Stiles kept saying over and over.

When all of the tears had dried, and Stiles wrapped a blanket around Derek’s shoulders, they shared a smile and a kiss. “You didn’t howl,” Stiles admonished him.

“Scared. Trap,” Derek said, looking ashamed. “Bonds gone.” He was beginning to talk more, but it would be a while before he formed sentences with the skill he’d had before going feral. 

Petting a hand over his hair and pressing a kiss to Derek’s forehead, Stiles tipped his head back and let out a joyful howl. Derek immediately joined in, and a moment later, the rest of the Pack added their voices to the din. It had taken ten long months that Stiles never wanted to experience again, but it didn’t matter anymore. Nothing mattered except Derek and their Pack.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say 'hi' on tumblr. I'm 'josjournal' over there!


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